Hello Stupid
by firebreather123
Summary: For Freddy Jones, bad grades lead to parental lectures, and parental lectures lead to tutors. The band is trickling away, and learning isn’t always completely academic. [incomplete:Chapter 2][het]
1. Default Chapter

[A/N]- this is a joint fic… written by TWO people.  Aiteane [Come to Terms] and Padfoots_pirate [hasn't posted a SOR fic yet]

            [Aiteane]- hi.  Yes we're writing an OC fic.  No she's not Mary Sue, no there's not what you would call 'angst' in this, nor is there much romance for the first-however-many-chapters-it-takes-us.  I wrote the first scene (with Kaitlin's tweaks) and she wrote the second and third (with my meddling).  I can't promise you, but we'll attempt to make the chapters longer... and actually finish the story. 

            [Padfoots-pirate]- Don't have too much to say on this chapter... Freddy is gonna be way fine when he is older... read my Pirates of the Caribbean fic... review it. Also read the POTC fic under the same author's name as this story. Review it, too. You know you wanna. Lastly, GO COLORADO AVALANCHE! WE NEED ANOTHER STANLEY CUP WIN! Eat that, Redwings fans!!!

[Disclaimer]- SOR belongs to Mike White and Paramount.  Yes we're infringing.  But we disclaimed ourselves… hah.  Take that Ned Schneebly.  Sue-age will result in Dave Barry books from Kaitlin, a super-busy calendar [plus AP review books] from Jessica and many many magazine pictures of hot guys from the both of us.   Title belongs to Slick Shoes.  This is going to be the only disclaimer to mike white and paramount, so get used to it.  We will however continue to disclaim quotes, items used, and people in the fic.

[Summary]- For Freddy Jones, bad grades lead to parental lectures, and parental lectures lead to tutors. The band is trickling away, and learning isn't always completely academic.  

*~*~*

Hello Stupid

Chapter 1

Freddy tossed the keys to his 4 runner into the clay bowl next to the door.  He sauntered down to the kitchen, where his housekeeper, Helena Diaz, was cooking dinner.

"Hi Hel, whatcha cooking?" he queried opening the fridge from habit.

"Hey! No eating, I've got fajitas," she closed the fridge for him. "How was band practice?"

"Dewey called saying he couldn't make it, Alicia never showed, Tomika had to do the dress rehearsal for the choir concert at school, Lawrence was there for thirty minutes before he had to jet for his philharmonic orchestra crap…" he trailed off heaving a sigh

"Sounds like you guys are falling away from each other."

He shrugged, "I hope not.  They'll realize that this is still their calling and we'll go make it big."

"Ah the dreams of making it big," she smiled, adding spices to the vegetables she was sautéing. "Don't you think that some of them might have changed over the years? Cultured different dreams?" she asked.  

Freddy stubbornly disagreed.  Helena sighed; he simply wouldn't climb out of that quicksand of denial he was stuck in.  People change, especially kids.  

"Go do something before dinner, maybe, God forbid your homework."  

He laughed, "Hey I could do it if I wanted to."

"Your parents are paying 20,000 dollars a semester for that school," she   
reminded him for what could have been the millionth time.

"They don't have to.  I could go a public school."

"They wouldn't hear of it.  Oh, watch out.  They have your semester grades," Helena warned.

"Shit.  I thought you would intercept it for me?" 

"Your mother got to the mail first."

"Shit." He groaned again slumping into a chair in the breakfast nook, dreading the 'We're so disappointed in you' speech that he was sure to hear   
later that evening.

*~*~*  
  
            Freddy stared at his plate of fajitas, half-heartedly prodding a piece of beef around the plate, attempting to tune out his parents.  
            "Freddy, we're so disappointed in your performance at school. I don't know where we went wrong. Your sister always had good grades. You are capable of doing so much better than this," his mother told him, waving the accusing grade sheet at him.  
            "Yes, Mom, I know. I realize that my grades leave something to be desired. Failing history and Spanish were not exactly my top priority," Freddy explained to his parents exasperatedly.  
            His father snorted. "Yes, Freddy, that's exactly the problem. That damn band of yours is your top priority, and everything else is at the bottom of your To Do list. These grades are simply unacceptable. Your mother and I have discussed it, and we'll give you two options."  
            Freddy took his gaze from the cold shriveled vegetables on his plate to meet his parents' eyes. He grimaced. "What are the options?"

His father stared at him levelly. "First, you can have your car taken away except for transportation to and from school, and be restricted from band practices until you raise your grades."

Freddy gaped at his father. "That's not fair!" he protested.

"Your second option," his father continued, "Is to have your car for school transportation only, go to band practice, and be grounded from your friends for all but one Saturday a month. And work with a tutor. We can find one for you, or you can find one for yourself. It's up to you." 

Freddy gawked at his parents. "You know, this grade thing is ridiculous.  Grade-obsession teaches kids that success is easily and regularly measured.  But life doesn't work that way.  Once you get out of school, you won't face weekly exams. You won't get little pointy A's telling you you're doing a good job. You might get performance evaluations at work every six months. But these don't mean promotions every year, like going from 9th to 10th grade, which is pretty much automatic as long as you show up to class. 

"I would also like to point out that I do have one A," he finished.

"That is not the point, Freddy. The point is that your abysmal performance in school, other than gym class, is not acceptable to us. So which is it going to be?" his father asked.

Burying his face in his hands, Freddy mumbled, "Ugh. The... the second one."

His mother beamed. "Are you going to find a tutor for yourself or do you want us to find you one?"

He put up his hands in front of him, waving them around in a 'stop' gesture. "No, no, I can find a tutor for myself." Imagining that he could simply ask Summer to tutor him, this plan seemed better than missing band practice. She was pretty easy on the eyes, after all.

"Oh, and one more condition about finding your own tutor," his mother interrupted his train of thought.

"What is it?"

"Not Summer." She rose to clear the table, and that closed the conversation.

*~*~*

"Not Summer? Not Summer. Dammit... who am I going to get now? It isn't as though I hang out with a particularly intelligent crowd. Ugh... this   
blows," Freddy ranted over the phone to Zack later that night.

"Yeah, dude, that's pretty harsh. But what can you do, you know? I mean,   
parents have the last word. Always," Zack sympathized. Freddy could hear him   
strumming his guitar in the background. "Hey, why don't you ask Lawrence?"   
he suggested.

Freddy tilted back in his chair, looking at the ceiling. "Yeah, that's not a   
bad idea. Thanks, man." He twirled a drumstick around in his hand before   
proceeding to bang on his desk with it. "Well, Moon, I gotta go. See ya at   
band practice tomorrow… hopefully the others show up."

"Alright, later. Good luck with the tutor thing."

Freddy hung up, and dropped the phone onto the floor. Still pissed with the idea of wasting time with a tutor, he stripped down to his ducky boxers and fell into bed.

[A/n]- Helena is based v. loosely on Corrina, Kaitlin's housekeeper/nanny/person-thing.  Ducky boxers belong to friend Kaile. Read and Review: we enjoy Criticism and Boundless Praise 


	2. Chapter 2

[shoutouts]- you guys rock our hippos (electricxrain)-hmm.. who is this squid you speak of? and yesh.. tutors would suck.. unless you know the person tutoring you.... looks down at boxers yesh v. comfortable. and freddy's... wink (maigain)-sorry friend, no freddy katie, no freddy/summer... this is a freddy/oc, but not one of the bad ones. she isn't too mary sue... hopefully. (swimmerkitti)- wow you seem to get around to everyone on reviews! hehe thanks, your name twin shall comment on the AVs and hockey becuase i'm not an avid fan. (princess642)- yay you dont' think she's mary sue! hope you liked this chapter!  
  
Chapter 2  
  
"Hey Lawrence?" Freddy asked. The Chinese teen looked up from his Physics textbook. "How busy are you?" He rubbed his arms, cold from the slight wind. His Lacoste polo didn't provide much warmth.  
  
"Well, I have the philharmonic youth symphony, AP tests are coming up soon, and my piano instructor has signed me up for several piano competitions, plus I'm taking SAT classes..." Lawrence trailed off attempting to remember the rest of his schedule.  
  
"SAT classes? What are you taking those for?" Freddy snorted incredulously.  
  
"I need to be prepared," he shrugged. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"I was wondering if you'd be able to tutor me and help raise my grades. My parents are taking drastic action since I'm failing two classes," Freddy sighed. "Basically, I'm screwed and thought you'd be able to lend a helping hand."  
  
Lawrence shook his head. "Sorry, Freddy, but time does not permit me to do any more extracurriculars."  
  
Freddy nodded. "Yeah, I guess. Thanks anyway." Hunching his shoulders, he turned away.  
  
"Wait, Freddy. I might be able to help you after all." Freddy grinned to himself. Good old reliable Lawrence.  
  
"How?"  
  
"My cousin could tutor you. She goes to this school and as far as I know, has no extracurriculars to get in the way," Lawrence proposed.  
  
Freddy stopped chuckling. "Your– your cousin?" he stammered.  
  
Lawrence smiled. "Yes. Would you like to meet her? She's supposed to meet me for lunch in just a few minutes. I am sure you could work something out." He brightened when he saw someone coming toward him. "Here she is now."  
  
A dark haired girl approached them, waving to Lawrence, who nodded at her. When she was a few yards away from where the boys were talking, she dropped her textbooks and managed to trip over them. Freddy had to bite his lip quite hard to keep from laughing out loud. She collected herself before pressing on to join her cousin.  
  
"Freddy, this is my cousin Zoe," Lawrence performed the introductions.  
  
"Dude, this is your cousin?" Freddy asked. Lawrence nodded. "No offense, but you two look absolutely nothing alike."  
  
Zoe glared at him. "What wonderful powers of observation you have, Fred."  
  
"Actually, my name's Freddy."  
  
She blinked at him slowly. Zoe then sat down across from Lawrence and proceeded to ignore the blond drummer who was burning holes in the back of her head with his eyes.  
  
Freddy was somewhat bored. He was waiting for Lawrence to ask his cousin to tutor him, but Lawrence just kept talking in Mandarin, also known as jibberish to Freddy. Zoe simply replied with a few words in English while eating her peanut butter and banana sandwich.  
  
Lawrence said something that caught her attention, and she choked on her sandwich for a moment before interrogating Lawrence in rapid fire Mandarin. He laughed and nodded. She eyed him warily before asking him something else. Lawrence grinned again. "Why don't you ask Freddy?" he turned to the drummer, who looked up at hearing his name.  
  
"Ask me what?"  
  
"Am I going to be paid?" she inquired, an eyebrow raised.  
  
"Paid for what?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "For the sexual favors I'm to perform." A look of shock crossed his face. "For tutoring, genius. Damn, you really do need help."  
  
"Since when did me and my poor grades come into the discussion?" he asked.  
  
She sighed. "Just answer the question. Thing is, I really don't want to tutor, but I need the money."  
  
"Yeah, money, whatever. Just talk to my parents." He turned his head away, eyes stinging from the breeze that blew into them.  
  
"And how do you propose I do that?" She tried to look at him, hair whipping into her face.  
  
Taking out a pen, he wrote a phone number on her palm. "Well, usually people call. On the telephone, you know?"  
  
"This is going to be a hell of a lot of fun, Jones, you know that?"  
  
He smiled sarcastically. "I'm quivering with excitement."  
  
"What am I tutoring you in?" she questioned.  
  
"History and Spanish," Freddy mumbled.  
  
"What? Those are easy classes," she scoffed.  
  
"Everything is easy to you Zo," Lawrence reached over and jabbed her shoulder.  
  
"Yeah, sorry oh Highness, I don't apply myself and spend all of my time studying," Freddy mocked, bowing in an "I am not worthy" manner.  
  
"Maybe if you did just a little more, your parents wouldn't bitch about grades," she informed him.  
  
"Thank you, captain obvious. You're definitely dorkly enough to be a tutor, what the hell is that on your shirt?" He pointed to the brown elephant- shaped cartoon figure on her black t-shirt.  
  
"It's un mamut, tonto."  
  
"Ooh, we're pulling out the BIG insults now," he muttered under his breath.  
  
"At least you know some Spanish."  
  
"What's un mamut?"  
  
Zoe slapped her palm to her forehead. "This is so not going to be worth it." She began grumbling to herself in a strange mixture of English, Spanish, and Mandarin. Freddy was pretty sure he caught the words "mierda," "matar," and "beat with a skillet," somewhere in her tirade.  
  
A bell rang from inside the school, triggering an exodus as the students rose from the cheap metal tables to meander toward fifth period. Zoe balled up the paper sack that had contained her lunch and tossed it into the trash can. "I guess I'll be calling you later," she told Freddy and hoisted her backpack up to her shoulder before leaving.  
  
[A/N]- (Jess) so another chapter, we shall update more frequently now that we're both done with AP tests and only have somewhat-slacker classes left. Also, Kaitlin insists that the license plates are from Minnesota, which my TV is too small to tell, so they live in the twin cities. Life lesson, don't get hit with golf balls... they hurt. And drinking a gallon of orange juice makes you really have to go pee.  
  
(Kaitlin) Pretty much the same as what Jessi said... except that just getting hit with balls hurts in general, not just golf balls. Rammalammadingdong.  
  
[disclaimer]- the mamut song belongs to LG productions, unos panas ahí or Luis Guillermo Torres... you can find it here: [http:]  
  
review please! 


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